In these present times, where our heads are now found,
We’re watching our men, cutting all our trees down.
They’re doing a number, on poor nature’s head,
and one day we’ll wake up, to find nature dead.
Disappearing from view! – Mother Nature’s front yard,
Just thinking about it, I find it quite hard…
To fully accept our great progress path.
I come to a standstill, and give out a laugh.
The wilderness bellows, a sound, haunting cry –
And does anyone honestly have to ask why?
Bewilderedly stumped I’ll search till I know,
Where in God’s name, do the animals go??
Written by yours truly, at the age of 22.
Here I am 52 years later, still searching, wondering where in God’s name do the animals go?
©2025 (Reprint 1972) All Rights Reserved. Listen To Thyself with Diane Marie Ford. You may share this article to your heart’s content, but please do not use it without my written permission. Thank you.
©2025 Photographs taken 07.2025